


Our Story's Lookin' Up (A Coming Out of Sorts)

by bentleys



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentleys/pseuds/bentleys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose is not oblivious. A bit overwhelmed, maybe, but that’s understandable, considering the fact that she’s a great deal further along in the Earth’s timeline than she ever quite expected to be, and she’s surrounded by alien species whose very existence she never before dared to dream of. (In which Rose Tyler is a lesbian, because reasons.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Story's Lookin' Up (A Coming Out of Sorts)

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the season one episode, "The End of the World", (it's the second episode) the one where Rose and The Doctor go see the end of the Earth and meet a bunch of aliens. I was playing out the conversation between Jabe and Rose and basically I wrote what I wished Rose had said, and ta-da! This happened. Um.

Rose is _not_ oblivious. A bit overwhelmed, maybe, but that’s understandable, considering the fact that she’s a great deal further along in the Earth’s timeline than she ever quite expected to be, and she’s surrounded by alien species whose very existence she never before dared to dream of.

So yeah, she might be staring, a little. Only a tad -- just trying to take it all in, you know. The woman looks like a _tree._

It’s evident what she’s doing, of course—she’s _flirting_ with the Doctor. Which is kind of weird, actually, because she’s a tree. But then, she’s not really, she’s a… very tree-like alien, or something, and anyway trees do have sex, of a sort, so Rose guesses it makes sense. (See? Rose Tyler, coping with aliens.)

But what trees do in their own time is of little interest to Rose, and honestly she doesn’t much care until Tree Lady is back again, this time assuming that Rose is somehow sexually tied to the Doctor. She still wouldn’t care, easy mistake to make, but the alien’s surprisingly persistent and she isn’t even talking _to_ Rose, she’s asking the Doctor about her.

“Whatever I am, it must be invisible,” she interjects, struggling to keep the brimming anger out of her voice. “Do you mind?”

The alien—Jabe, the Doctor said, and see, Rose even remembered her name, which is a hell of a lot more than she’s done for Rose—glances briefly toward her for a second before looking to the Doctor again, and alright, Rose has had enough.

“And you’d do well not to go around assuming things like that. You might offend someone—personally, I’m working very hard at _not_ being offended, but my strength of will could give out at any time.”

Jabe blinks, looks taken aback. She seems about to speak, but Rose jumps in before she can. She’s just realised that she can say whatever she damn well pleases—five billion years in the future, what’re they going to do, tell her mother on her?

“I mean, _really,”_ she exclaims. “Just because I’m a woman and he’s a man doesn’t mean we’re fucking. We’re not even the same species, for God’s sake.”

Jabe doesn’t seem to have been expecting such an emotional response from Rose. (Rose wasn’t either, actually.)

“I’m _sorry,”_ she says. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You’re right,” Rose says shortly. “You shouldn’t have.” She smirks, suddenly. “I mean, if I _was_ fucking someone, which I’m not, it wouldn’t be him. Now, look—if we need your help we’ll find you, but for now I’m going to go explore the ship with my guest, thanks.”

The Doctor, with his excellent sense of timing, sticks out his hand just as she finishes. He flashes a friendly smile at Jabe as Rose grips his hand in her own and drags him away. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for until she finds it, - this huge, drawn-out room with floor-to-ceiling windows. The Earth is in its last hours, and it’s gorgeous.

“Well, _that_ was fun,” says the Doctor cheerfully, and Rose can’t help but grin a little, because yeah, it was.

“I always love a good rant, myself,” he continues good-naturedly. “ _Almost_ as good as a tirade, though of course not quite. Was that bit about ‘if it was anyone it wouldn’t be _him’_ really necessary, though? I’m a mite insulted.”

“Oh,” says Rose. “Right, no, you’re great, Doctor. Just not…my type.”

“Is it the alien-ness? Because I can understand that, always found humans a bit odd myself,” he winks.

Rose can’t help but grin. He may be half-mad and almost a complete stranger, but she kind of loves the man.

“No,” she says. “No, it’s more of the general male-ness that’s the problem, actually.”

 _“Oh!”_ exclaims the Doctor. “But—what about Mickey?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t _know_ you like women? But as your boyfriend, wouldn’t that information be rather personally relevant to him?”

“Well, yes, but—look, _no one_ knows,” Rose says. “I haven’t exactly come out yet. To anyone.”

The Doctor gets that squinty look on his face that he gets when he’s trying to figure something out. “You haven’t _what?_ Hang on, don’t tell me, I know this. Early 21st century slang for--“ he snaps his fingers, “—right, revealing one’s homosexuality. But they’ve got a special word for that, too, haven’t they? You’re _sly,_ yeah?”

“Um,” says Rose, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.

“No!” he yelps. “No, no, it’s ‘gay,’ isn’t it? You’re gay?”

“Oh,” she says. (Of course it makes _sense_ that one day there’ll be a different word for gay, it’s just she’s never thought about this. If there’s one thing being with the Doctor is teaching her, it’s that she hasn’t thought about a lot of things.) “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess,” says the Doctor. “But you haven’t told anyone. Oh my, humans and their slowness with sexuality.”

Rose eyes him. _“You_ don’t care,” she says. It’s not a question.

“Nope,” he smiles, eyes wide with truth. “Rose, I am far too old and have traveled far too long to be bothered much by what 21st century humans consider _bad._ Did I ever tell you about the And’nians?”

“No?”

“Well,” says the Doctor, and his voice is alight with the childlike fascination with new things that Rose loves so much. _“They_ have five genders, all of which are required for the mating process, which lasts about five Earth years. The fact that you prefer the female of your species couldn’t bother me less, Rose,” and his eyes are kind as he says it.

“Thanks,” she says. “It’s not that I think people—at least the important ones—will care, it’s just… I don’t know.” She gives him a sad smile. “It’s stupid.”

The Doctor frowns at her. “It’s not stupid, Rose. You worry that people will look at you different, and that isn’t always an easy thing to face. It’s not your fault the whole of humanity is a bit slow, either.”

“True,” says Rose, because yeah, she can’t much argue at this point. “But we’re getting there, you know? There’s hope?”

“Not really,” the Doctor says cheerfully, but his tone suggests there _might_ be hope, one day. Maybe. If one squints and tilts their head a bit.

It’s enough for Rose, of _course_ it’s enough for Rose. She’s got a funny man with a lovely blue box that just happens to travel through space and time. She doesn’t have to sit around on her arse waiting for the world to catch up. She’s Rose Tyler, and the future can come to _her,_ for a change.


End file.
